


never something i could hide

by maxbegone



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Episode: s05e11 Meet the Parents, Family, Introspection, Missing Scene, Self-Discovery, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 14:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/pseuds/maxbegone
Summary: Maybe Rose Video was a kind of foreshadowing for him. Maybe those Christmas cards sent out en masse was the universe telling him he’d find happiness in a beautiful man with a business idea who could sometimes lean on the dramatic side of things and had a kind, good heart.But Patrick doesn’t believe in fate. At least, he wasn’t sure he did before David came into his life.Yet another Meet The Parents fic, because there are never enough.
Relationships: Clint Brewer/Marcy Brewer, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 24
Kudos: 197





	never something i could hide

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Sunrise by Norah Jones

“I’m going to go open the store,” David announces after downing the remains of his orange juice. He drums a quick beat on the table as he moves to slide out from the booth. “I’ll see you all in a little bit?”

Patrick looks up at him with faint shock, failing to resist reaching out for his hand. “You don’t want to wait?” He asks, making David stop short halfway in a standing position.

“I’m sorry, are you suggesting opening the store late?” David’s brows fly up in amusement. “What happened to keeping regular hours?”

“I know, but—“ _This is different, it’s special,_ he wants to say, _look what you did for me,_ but the words get caught in his throat and David is right. 

“You three should catch up,” David asserts, shooting a genuine smile across the table. “Come in when you’re done. Okay?”

With a sigh, Patrick meets his parents’ gaze. His mother beams where she sits with her hands wrapped around her chipped coffee cup, his father all too similar next to her. “Okay,” Patrick manages then, letting David slip from his fingers. “I’ll close tonight, then.”

David shakes his head. “Nope, you’re not. Your parents are in town and they leave tomorrow morning. We’ll show them the store when you’re done with breakfast, but if you so much as try and ring up one customer while you’re there, I’ll change the locks. ‘Kay?”

His cheeks burn with a flush as David’s lips meet his temple, and his mother snickers into her drink. He knows he’s not a teenager, and he’s not opposed to affection toward David in the slightest (they’re constantly hanging off each other, how could he be?), but with his parents _right_ there it’s a little different.

“Working himself to the bone hasn’t changed, I see,” she says to David with a wink.

“There have been several instances where I’ve had to hide the laptop so we could have a relaxing evening.” David’s hand rubs his shoulder. “Has he always been like this?”

“Patrick gets it from me, unfortunately” his father shrugs mildly, and Patrick brings his tea to his lips by way of distracting himself. “I’ve been told we’re both...workaholics, was it?” He turns to his wife.

She nods in confirmation. “That’s right.”

David nods, an all-too mischievous look in his dark eyes. “So that’s what I’ve gotten myself into.” He winks at Patrick. “Makes sense. I’ve had to, you know, distract him a few times.”

“Okay—“

“Enjoy the rest of breakfast.” David kisses his temple again and waves like he didn’t just make the _slightest_ hint at sex in front of his parents.

Red-faced, Patrick folds his hands on the table and offers his parents a shy smile. 

They’re in the same booth as they were just twelve hours ago when he came out to them, down to the same positions.

“So...”

“David’s just a sweetheart, isn’t he?” His mother chimes.

He beams. “Yeah, he is.”

“And he planned such a nice party for you, too, honey. Oh, and that cake!” She claps her hands together and Patrick chuckles.

“David has the biggest sweet tooth known to man. He doesn’t mess around when it comes to baked goods.”

“Had I known that, I would have baked you both something.”

“David would have appreciated that,” Patrick smiles. “I can also assure you that he would not have shared.”

His parents laugh, and Patrick breathes a little, feeling layer after layer of excess nerves dissipate. Yes, he knows his parents love and accept who he is — he has always known that, but _especially_ now — and yes last night went well, but Patrick’s still finding these little moments where it’s just reaffirmed.

He suspects it’ll go on like this for the foreseeable future.

“More coffee, Mr. Brewer?” Twyla asks, suddenly appearing at the table with two coffee pots in hand. 

“Yes, please.” He pushes his mug forward. “Thank you.” 

“How are liking your stay?” She lifts one pot higher, gesturing toward Main Street. “I’m sure the town’s a lot smaller than...?”

“Oldwyn,” Patrick supplies.

“Oldwyn.” Twyla smiles. “But we make it our own. Rose Apothecary’s certainly helped,” she adds, throwing a wink Patrick’s way. “You know, you and David have really upped the business here as well.”

“I—we have?” Patrick knew that was an inevitability, especially in such a small town with the next closest being almost half an hour away. He knows how it all works, how communities and small businesses feed off one another, but hearing it from Twyla sparks a little ember of pride deep in his chest that he wasn’t expecting.

“Yeah, all sorts of people stop here on their way over to you guys! It’s always nice to see some fresh faces. I know Schitt’s Creek doesn’t have much to offer in terms of shopping or entertainment, but you and David should be proud. You’ve really done something incredible.” With that, Twyla sends a cheerful glance around the table and makes her exit. “Let me know if you three need anything else.”

Across from him, his father lets out a proud little huff. “Well. Would you look at that.”

Patrick hums, astounded. “Yeah.”

“You’ve really made yourself a life here, haven’t you?” It’s his mother who says it, a little strained.

His parents’ eyes aren’t sad, per se, but there’s something there. Longing, maybe, for all the time they’ve missed out on. 

Last night, when they had mentioned that David had gone to their room at the motel to mend whatever damage Mr. Rose thought he’d caused (who’s = since apologized profusely), his arms wrapped around a basket of product and good first impressions, they told Patrick what he almost didn’t expect to hear: that they wished they would have done something differently in the past.

“You couldn’t have,” he had replied with a tight voice and David’s hand clutched tightly on his lap between his own. “You guys raised me perfectly.” And upon saying that, his mother let out a wet, relieved gasp. “I didn’t know before I moved here. Until I met David.”

And now, with two of the most important people in his life, Patrick can proudly say: “Yeah, I really have.”

He’s made a life _with_ David. _For_ David, _for_ himself. _Because_ of David. He wasn’t lying when he said this was the happiest he’s ever been. 

Before he saw Ray’s job ad, he was very close to driving until he hit the sun. Or the west coast.

After that, it’s complete history. He’s never been more grateful for a job posting in his life.

Maybe Rose Video was a kind of foreshadowing for him. Maybe those Christmas cards sent out en masse was the universe telling him he’d find happiness in a beautiful man with a business idea who could sometimes lean on the dramatic side of things and had a kind, good heart.

But Patrick doesn’t believe in fate. At least, he wasn’t sure he did before David came into his life.

Regardless, he hopes in all of those parallel universes out there, David’s always thrown in his path one way or another.

Shaking his head, he says, “I know I’m far away now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t see you.” Patrick reaches for his mother’s hand. “I feel awful for not visiting when I should have. And for being so vague.”

“Honey, it’s okay,” she assures, giving his hand a squeeze and it’s enough to keep him from falling apart. “You had to figure things out at your own speed. I’ll admit it hurt not being able to see my sweet boy as often as I used to, but Dad and I understand.”

He feels like a little kid again, coming to them with his deepest, darkest secret. 

Granted when Patrick was seven, his deepest, darkest secret was that he broke his grandfather’s crystal tobacco jar when he was tossing a ball around in the house and then hid the broken pieces under his bed for a week. So this is different, and his parents have already known this secret for almost twenty-four hours.

And there aren’t any shards of glass scattered over the black and white checkered floor of the café. He’s still whole, he’s still Patrick.

Which is…well, it’s honest to god relieving.

This whole thing was less earth-shattering than he had anticipated.

David has seen Patrick at his most unkempt, wildest moments. At his lowest, during moments of insecurity and vulnerability and he’s loved him through it every step of the way, no questions asked. He’s held him together with his hands and kisses and murmurings alone, and that’s all Patrick really needs at the end of the day.

David Rose is the love of his life, there’s no doubt about it. 

So saying the eight words to his parents is easier than anything he’s ever done before. They know now.

“I’m going to ask David to marry me.”

He expects an eruption of _“What?!”_ from them both that would be enough to turn heads, but he’s met with two sets of tear-filled eyes and wet laughter instead. A welcome contrast.

“Oh, _Patrick…”_ His mother can’t seem to get anything else out aside from those two words. She shakes her head, smiling wide as she grips her husband’s arm.

“I-I know you guys only met him last night,” Patrick finds himself saying. Word-vomiting. “But I’ve known for a while. I don’t have a ring yet, but I have an idea, and what David did yesterday only solidified the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with him.” And then, in another rush of words, he’s adding, “This is different than Rachel, I promise.”

As soon as he says it he winces, because she doesn’t deserve that. It’s unfair.

But it’s also the truth.

What Patrick thought he knew when he decided to propose to Rachel was false; all the times they fell back into it didn’t mean it was inevitable. It meant that they were masking the things they needed to figure out on their own. Getting married wasn’t going to heal things for them.

He’s so happy — for _both_ of them — that it never happened.

The idea of marrying David is so much clearer; even on the very edges, Patrick can see them ten, twenty, thirty years into the future together and so on, blissfully and utterly happy. 

He must have a truly lovesick smile on his face, because his father is nudging his foot beneath the table, smirking right back at him.

“We’re so proud of you,” he says, bringing his hands together. “We have all the time in the world to get to know David, and if you want to marry him, then, son, we will support you the whole way.”

Patrick sucks in a breath. “Thank you.”

“He was willing to go to great lengths to protect you, you know.” his father continues with a raised eyebrow. “David’s good.”

“Yeah. He is, isn’t he?”

Patrick falls back into his seat. He tilts his head up toward the ceiling, tracing a line between the spots in the old paint. Is there a word for feeling simultaneously exhausted and grateful?

“When did you know?” His mother’s sweet voice brings him back. “That David was the one, when did you know?”

“When we were apart for a week,” he answers. They already know this story, he and David told them last night after a formal reintroduction. “I knew that aching for him that much only meant I had to fight for him. That time away from David made me completely sure that I wanted him in my life for as long as he’d let me have him I thought I lost him,” Patrick concludes. “I couldn’t live with that.”

“And proposing?” It’s his father who asks this time.

“Uh, a bunch of moments, honestly. Random things he does around the store, watching him watch something he loves, singing along to the radio on vendor trips.” Patrick chuckles at that one, remembering just three weeks ago when David had gotten a little breathless while belting _Fantasy_ with the windows rolled down.

By the second verse, Patrick had joined in, and when Mariah switched to Norah, they split the overly-dramatic serenading during _Sunrise._

Patrick shrugs bashfully. “He takes care of me. Even when he thinks he isn’t, there are days where David’s the one thing holding me up.”

His parents smile at him like they get it, which they probably do. Patrick’s watched his mother lean all her weight on his father when she really needed to, like when his grandmother died and she was left to do funeral arrangements because her sisters were too far away. 

He wants what they have, that unconditional love for one another along with the friendship that’s strengthened along the way. He always has.

“David’s family,” Patrick adds, pinching the base of his fingers. He’s not sure why, but his face gets hot saying it. “You’re my family, obviously, and he’s my family. And David’s welcomed me into his. He’s always going to be that for me.”

“If David’s your family,” his mother begins, reaching across the table to take his hands once again, “then he’s our family, too.”

He’s crying now, there’s no other word for it. His throat feels thick, there’s a steady stream of tears rolling down his cheeks because his parents already love David and have accepted them both.

Patrick points towards the door with the one hand that isn’t gracelessly wiping the wetness from his face. “We should probably get to the store.”

When they get there, David greets Patrick with a kiss, a proper one on the lips but they keep it PG. His mother startles David with a hug, but he leans into it, throwing a look of content and disbelief Patrick’s way.

It strikes something deep in his chest that he can’t find a word for. 

Love. Maybe it’s love.

Once he extracts himself, David excitedly gives the grand tour, going into detail on the vendors of certain bestselling products and setting things aside for them to take home. Patrick doesn’t even tease him about giving away half their inventory; how can he when he’s been so wonderful?

He can look forward to a lifetime with David freely now, no longer having to keep this secret from his parents like he’s Sisyphus carrying the boulder up that mountain day in and day out.

Maybe in a year from now David will be his husband, and there will be an official stamp on that family dynamic, but for now Patrick has plans to make and an idea forming in his head — rings, plural.

He’s made a life for himself in Schitt’s Creek with David by his side. He found himself _because of David._

If he allows Patrick to have a lifetime by his side, what else will there be to discover? 

One thing’s for sure: he can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me [@maxbegone](maxbegone.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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